yet another update wow

____

For the rest of the day, Jimin made efforts to lock the confession out of his mind.

The few, tiny words that felt so heavy on his shoulders, the silence that followed them, the tension that hung thick in the air like humidity in the dead of August.

Yoongi knew. He knew Jimin wasn't okay with it, and Jimin knew that he knew. It was just something that was going to tear them apart eventually, whether they liked it or not. A sad but mutual acceptance that two people like them just couldn't make sense.

But Jimin knew never to trust the first thought that came into his head. He was realizing, as hours passed and he remembered the Thai food and his chemistry grade and the fact that he felt good when he talked to Yoongi and joked with him, he wasn't okay with them drifting apart.

He wasn't okay with casting this entire day and entire friendship aside because Yoongi looked at boys differently than he did. It would be stupid and pointless, and that's coming from someone who once jumped off of a one story roof for twenty thousand won.

Jimin didn't have to like this. He didn't have to like anything his friends did to be their friend. What mattered was liking the person. And as a person, he did like Yoongi. Min Yoongi and his sarcasm and amazing mind and paper skin.

So when he was walking into the parking lot, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and a dark red car met his eyes that was the pimple on the face of this earth, with a driver that had fluffy jet-black hair and dorky glasses, Jimin did something he had no explanation for.

"Yoongi! Wait up!" he cried, waving an arm above him haphazardly, and the more distance he cleared, the faster he found himself moving, because what if Yoongi left without him? What if he pulled out of the parking lot, and that was the end of this?

Thankfully, his hardcore panic-running was an act without purpose. Yoongi turned his head in surprise, due to his window being rolled down, (despite the current time of year, i.e. it was January and cold as balls) letting the sound of Jimin's frantic voice hit his ears.

His foot slid hesitantly off of the gas pedal, watching every step Jimin took towards his car. There were a lot of possible outcomes of Park Jimin running like the wind in his direction. Yoongi didn't know whether or not to be scared, but he did know he needed to put his car back in park, so he did.

"What?" he asked as Jimin finally came to a stop in front of the passenger's door, panting, his hands finding purchase on his knees.

Jimin fixed his windswept blonde hair, using catching his breath as an excuse to think. To look for the right words in his head. He had no clue if he could fix this, but at least Yoongi didn't feel distanced enough from him to just drive away. "You're not leaving without me, are you?" he asked, hopeful and doubtful at the same time.

Yoongi had no clue what to say to that. Yeah, studying and eating takeout and doing whatever the hell people do in friendships sounded pretty good to him, but he thought Jimin was done with this. With him. "You still want to go?" he questioned, speaking just loud enough so that the wind didn't carry his voice away.

Jimin gave him a shrug. "Am I still at chemistry?"

Yoongi turned away, locking his eyes on his steering wheel, running his palms over it for comfort. "I thought you were pissed," he offered his explanation.

Jimin slid his hands back in his jacket pockets. "Did I say I was?" he asked.

"You didn't really say anything," Yoongi pointed out.

Jimin - despite his low self awareness - knew that was true. What took place from chemistry class on up to now was not the comfortable type of silence you get in a long car ride or late at night, laying on the couch. It was long and awkward and depressing as hell. "You're right," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to go, that's okay. But I'm telling you I still want to, and that...I'm sorry."

Yoongi glanced down at the passenger's seat, then back up at Jimin, who was suddenly remembering that someone had outed this boy freshman year. Probably when he was fifteen. Jimin wondered if anyone else who found out had moved past it, and still tried to hang out with him. Judging by the lack of friends or even acquaintances Yoongi has, he thinks no.

Whether it was the prospect of keeping a friend for once, or the fact that Jimin was clearly freezing his off out there, something made Yoongi unlock the car doors, and pat the passenger's seat. "Get in, then," he said.

Jimin felt a touch of relief in his chest as he opened the door, climbing in next to Yoongi. And although this car was run down and looked like it'd require a spell from the wand of Harry goddamn Potter to make it move, he felt comfortable. Safe, even.

Wordlessly, Yoongi put the car back in reverse, driving out of their parking space and then out of the lot, and Jimin let his eyes trail to the window as they hit the road.

He watched leafless trees and buildings pass, saw kids running and laughing together in the park wearing their giant puffy coats, watched the cloudy sky and the sporadic patches of snow on the side of the road.

It was a little bumpy riding in that car, and sometimes it would make an outlandish noise. The heating system was terrible, but Jimin didn't mind much. His jacket kept him from shivering too badly.

(Better heat wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. When he tried to roll up the window, Yoongi informed him that it was broken, and he didn't have the money to get it fixed.)

Wind chimes made white noise as Jimin felt his eyes drifting back to his left, and he watched Yoongi's brown pupils behind his glasses, a warm tint reflected in them from the red traffic light ahead.

"Hey, listen," he said, breaking the silence as the turn signal clicked quietly in the background. "About the whole gay thing. I'm not gonna lie. It's not my favorite thing about you."

Yoongi nodded in understanding. That much was easy to get from how quiet Jimin was in chemistry when he told the truth, and how he'd scooted an inch or two away.

"But," Jimin started, gaze finding its way back to the open (broken) window, "Just give me some time, and I can get more comfortable with it. It wasn't an issue before, so it doesn't have to be now."

Yoongi didn't smile, but he felt a huge weight lift from his chest, like someone had just picked up the pile of stones that sat there on his heart, constantly.

"Thanks," he said, and his voice was quiet.

"Don't thank me for it," Jimin replied, and there was a certain comfort in the fact that he'd made his mind up on the right thing. "I like you, Yoongi. And also, I️ need a ride to get places."

That was just a joke, but Yoongi didn't laugh or smile. He was despondent for a second. "A ride in my car," he said after that second had passed.

Jimin wasn't really sure what his intention was in saying that. It was a fact, sure. This car was and they were both cold, and when they passed the library, the speedometer got stuck on ten for a long enough time to make them both concerned. But that had nothing to do with their friendship. Nothing to do with the fact that they were both still here, in this car. Together.

So Jimin just left it alone for the four more minutes it took to pull up to a parking lot - one he frequented, and one he definitely wasn't disappointed to be in.

They walked inside without saying anything to one another, to pick up the food that Yoongi had ordered at some point in the past ten minutes (it must've been in the beginning of their car ride, when Jimin wasn't paying attention).

And it was probably, definitely stupid to be thinking so much about becoming friends with a gay person. It made sense, what with the dedicated homophobes he had for parents. But it was stupid nonetheless.

Damn, that was the first time his parents were even coming to mind. They couldn't find out about this. If he were to invite Yoongi over at some point, he would have to make sure he kept this on the down low; as much as he disliked homouality, his parents seemed to think it was the cause of every problem in this world.

They told Jimin one time when he was eight, when he wanted the girl's toy in a McDonald's Drive Thru because it was a tiny stuffed dog, that he was acting like 'one of them.' That wasn't allowed, they'd said, and he was going to eat at home. Jimin never quite forgot that, and not because he didn't get to have the sandwich and apple slices he wanted.

By the time he was done having a session of deep thought, Yoongi had paid, and so they took their containers of food.

Jimin hissed at the heat of the black plastic on his skin, and as they exited the building, his pace kicked into a run, because he needed to get this thing out of his hands. Weird, almost birdlike noises found their way out of his mouth as he sprinted, his palms burning, and Yoongi couldn't help but laugh at him, watching through his glasses as he dashed across the parking lot like a little kid.

, he thought to himself, smiling, using his sweater paws to shield his hands from the heat.

They got back in his depressing junk car, and Jimin liked the way the container felt on his lap rather than in his hands, watching Yoongi climb in next to him.

"Where should we go?" he asked, curling up into himself to ward off the cold coming through the wide open window.

"That park down the road, maybe?" suggested Yoongi, twisting his key once. Then twice when the stubborn car refused to start. "Dammit," he muttered, and Jimin glanced down, watching the key go back and forth. Luckily, the engine fired itself up on the fifth twist.

"This car is gonna collapse before we get there," the blonde remarked.

"Told you it was ," Yoongi grumbled.

In the car, they considered themselves lucky to have made it to the park down the road. They were thinking about studying while they ate their meal, but they agreed that thermodynamics would still be there when the food was gone. They picked a park bench and plopped themselves down to eat, and not to study.

Jimin, staring at the branches of the trees and the couple of cold-resistant kids playing on the swings, couldn't get a question off his mind. Probably the same question that most straight guys asked themselves in this scenario.

Was Yoongi attracted to him?

He understood the whole 'gay guys don't want to get with every single guy' thing. It made sense; he wasn't attracted to every single girl by any stretch of the imagination.

But Jimin was the only guy in the school Yoongi willingly spoke to, and now they were to the point where Yoongi was smiling in front of him, offering to drive him places and teach him how to chemistry. And Jimin may be an idiot, but he knew that objectively, he was not that bad-looking. He had a decent face, soft hair, toned arms and a good . Nobody on god's green earth could deny the latter.

"Hey, Jimin," Yoongi's voice dissolved his thoughts again, and he set down his chopsticks, balancing them on his container of food.

"What?" asked Jimin, chewing still.

Yoongi gave him a lazy, cheeky smile. "Wanna see?" he said, and that sounded really weird without context. Jimin watched with raised eyebrows as Yoongi pushed his left sleeve up his arm, the fabric bunching towards the top of his pale bicep.

Then Jimin understood. He understood when another bruise was in his line of vision, and he knew immediately that he'd put it there.

"Holy , Yoongi."

Holy was right. Yeah, he'd punched him pretty hard the other day, but this was an award-winning bruise, spreading from three-quarters down his bicep to almost his elbow. And it looked like grape Koolaid.

Yoongislid his sleeve back down, if only to pull Jimin out of his amazed trance. And because it was ing cold out here and he was covered in goosebumps. "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

"Believe what?"

"That I bruise like a peach."

"I guess so. Jesus. Sorry about that," he told him sincerely, taking a sip from his straw. "You want me to kiss it better?" he then joked, making kissy faces and noises at him, but when Yoongi gave him a weird look, he realized how that sounded. Especially after what happened today.

Jimin grinned, biting back a laugh. "Actually, don't answer that," he added, biting his straw.

"You ," Yoongi shot back, grinning just as wide as he slapped Jimin on the arm.

____

a/n
maximal oofage